


The Demon of My Dreams

by Chexmixup



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Bad End Route, Character Death In Dream, M/M, Minor Caspar von Bergliez/Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s), Slow Burn, Sort Of, Strangers to Lovers, but it's one sided, characters will be added, fix it timeline, more on that later on, seiros university lmao what, tags will update and change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:14:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22936156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chexmixup/pseuds/Chexmixup
Summary: He remembers green hair cascading around him, and a face that felt just strangely familiar, but the name was escaping him. All he remembers clearly was that he was crying, and the heartache that follows with the memory. He’s never seen that man in his life, of that he’s certain. So why, why was he being plagued with this dream.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez & Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert, Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	The Demon of My Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> hohoholy shit i haven't written anything in a loooong time. and then the other day i was just thinking about how much i love caspar and i was like "fuck it what if i wrote it" and so i did. but in all honesty, i have found a huge soft spot for this pairing and i hope i can do some justice here despite having been out of practice. please comment or leave a kudos if you enjoyed it!  
> follow me on twitter if you ever wanna talk about the hell that is three houses, or if u just wanna say hi  
> @diklord9000
> 
> edit: this is being betad as i'm posting so don't be surprised if there are a couple changes to the chapters after they've been posted. nothing in the plot will change with this, just simple stuff

_He doesn’t think- he rarely does in the heat of a fight, but usually he doesn’t need to think. His instinct drives him forward, pushing past his companion to land a blow on the soldier opposing them. Normally, he could manage a fatal blow with these new gauntlets of his, but normally he doesn’t miss._

_It happens so quickly, and it’s every bit as terrifying as he’d imagined. The blade of the opposing soldier is thrust into his abdomen near seamlessly before it’s pulled out, leaving Caspar to stumble backwards and gasp through the blood starting to pool in the back of his throat. He hardly manages a few steps before he falls, letting himself collapse to his back gracelessly. All he can hear is the thrum of his blood rushing through his ears; his vision blurs as he watches a spark of light cast across him, but he doesn’t see where it’s directed. He only barely registers the pain taking over him as he closes his eyes, only for a moment-_

_When his eyes open, the agony in his lower half is throbbing much more aggressively, and he’s made aware just how cold he is. His vision takes an extra couple seconds to focus upwards, slowly registering a face hovering over his own and graciously blocking the sun from his eyes. He blinks once, then again, before he’s fully aware of his surroundings as his hearing is finally coming back to him._

_“Caspar- Caspar can you hear me? Caspar please-”_

_“Lin-?” Is all he can manage before the blood in his throat begins to catch. He lurches forward with a wheeze and- oh, he must have been laying in Linhardt’s lap, when did that happen? He can hardly focus on the thought long, crimson staining his vision as blood pools from his mouth and the rush of pain forces him to fall back into his prior position. The blood on his chin and neck feels like fire compared to the deathly chill that seeps through his bones._

_He knows what this means. He knows what this means and yet all he feels is guilt. Lin hates blood, and yet in his final moments here that’s all Caspar is leaving him with. He shouldn’t be here, he shouldn’t be fighting in this ugly war, and his beautiful emerald robes shouldn’t be soiled by the blood and dirt._

_He feels Lin’s warm hands soothing his face and he manages a glance upwards once more, trying his best to focus through the pain and on the man above him and- no, no he was crying. It’s something Caspar hasn’t seen in many, many years, and another wave of pain rears its head, though for different reasons. The first time Lin cries, and it’s for him. At least, Caspar chooses to think it’s for him, as he doesn’t have much more time to ponder any other reason. So he smiles, wide and warm- or as well as he can manage- and once more meets Linhardt’s eyes._

_He really doesn’t have much time, his vision continuously growing bleary and his mind feeling the pulls of sleep, so maybe now is the time to say what he can. “ ‘m sorry,” He says with a gasp, but his train of thought is leaving him. “... Didn’t want you to be here,” And with a hazy blink he sees Linhardt about to retaliate. So Caspar brings a shaking hand to his lips and gestures for the other to stay quiet, and Lin’s pale face falls further into that look of despair. He really, really didn’t want this to be his last vision of Linhardt to be looking so utterly hopeless, but the lull of sleep was becoming near irresistible. So he lets his eyes fall closed. “Please just… just go. You-... you shouldn’t be here... “ But where should Lin go? Caspar was quickly losing his grasp on the world, he hadn’t a clue how to finish that statement. Hopefully Lin would get it, he was always good at understanding Caspar beyond words. Caspar wanted him to be safe, in that future he’d always imagined where peacetime was filled with naps and idle studies. There’s no way he can say all that, but he has to say something before it’s too late._

_“...safe…”_

Caspar bolts awake in his bed, drenched in sweat and trembling as the ache in his body fades to just a thrumming of adrenaline. Goddess, he hated that dream.

____________________________

“Have you thought about seeing- I don’t know- maybe a therapist? It’s not normal to repeatedly dream of your own death,” Ashe says with a shake of his head. Caspar can only manage a grumpy glare across their table, shoveling cereal into his mouth with perhaps less finesse than he’d expected. The cereal and milk that spilled on the table only furthered to sully his mood.

“‘M not crazy or anything!” The look Ashe shoots him makes him swallow his mouthful sheepishly before sighing. “I’m sorry. It’s just frustrating, ya’ know? It’s like- the dream is so real and yet it’s in a place I’ve never been- with people I’ve never seen!” Dropping his spoon in his bowl, Caspar begins to gesture with his hands as if to convey through actions rather than words, yet it only served to make Ashe laugh at him. “Hey, I’m being serious! What am I even supposed to do about this?!”

“Calm down Caspar, it is just a dream after all.” Ashe says for lack of better words, but the look on his face remains empathetic. “At the very least, you have an excuse to skip class for the rest of the day.”

“Oh, sorry professor, I can’t make it to class. I had a bad dream last night,” Caspar says listlessly, a deadpan replacing his scowl. Again, Ashe laughs at him but this time he cracks a grin at it, feeling lighter despite his exhaustion.

“Then I take it you plan on getting yourself ready in- uh-” Ashe glanced to the clock on the stove. “-five minutes?”

Caspar took another bite of his cereal, humming thoughtfully through his mouthful. “I’ve done worse,” He finally decided, but continued to munch through his breakfast as though he hadn’t just announced his time limit.

“Yes well, I’m headed to class for the day. If you do decide to go to class, I’ll treat you to lunch after,” Ashe offered as he stood, going first for his discarded shoes and then his backpack. He turns back momentarily, wearing a thoughtful expression. “Besides, maybe if you speak to someone else, you might get some other insight for your dream.”

“And have people think I’m crazy? As if.” Caspar scoffs with a bitter shake of his head.

Ashe shrugged as he turned back to the door. “Your loss. Text me if you decide to go to class.” And with that, his roommate left and he was stuck alone with his mostly eaten bowl of cereal and frustrating remnants of that same damn dream.

As the morning goes on, he can only remember certain details. He knows he felt pain, but by the time he was awake it had dissipated; the more time passes, the more he feels the pain may have been just an exaggeration. Unluckily for him, he remembers the gore as though it had happened right in front of him. It was burned into his memory; _the gaping wound peaking through the tears in his clothes, drenched in blood and sticking to his body uncomfortably._

It sends a shiver down Caspar’s spine, the sensation still fresh and- well- terrifying.

And who was that with him? He remembers green hair cascading around him, and a face that felt just strangely familiar, but the name was escaping him. All he remembers clearly was that he was crying, and the heartache that follows with the memory. He’s never seen that man in his life, of that he’s certain. So why, why was he being plagued by this dream.

There was no use dwelling on it, Caspar was never really good at thinking. So he picks up his now emptied bowl and deposits it in the sink before reluctantly going to get changed for class. He’d have a distraction, at the very least, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t sleep through class, too. It wouldn’t be the first time, and Caspar was certain it wouldn’t be the last of his bad habit. So, once he finally dresses for the day, he texts Ashe the restaurant for them to meet at and is off.

___________________________

Arriving late wasn’t Caspar’s favorite event. Actually, he made a point of not showing up if he was going to be late. Caspar had figured it wouldn’t be so bad, Professor Byleth was always laid back- though she did give some mean glares from time to time. But this wasn’t his first class with her, and he was certain he could handle her disgruntled glares for a couple hours.

He didn’t expect the classroom to fall to silence as he creaked the door open. So much for a sneaky entrance, he supposes. He tries his best to quietly slip into his desk, but Byleth clears her throat and he stops where he stands.

“Ah, Caspar. I’m glad to see you decided to join us today.” Caspar felt his face go red as his classmates turned to stare at him. He pointedly stared at his shoes, rather than the professor and bystanders.

“Yeah, sorry Professor. My alarm didn’t go off this morning,” He lied, taking his seat as he carefully shifted his bag below his desk. Not looking up from his sneakers, not until he felt the stares of his peers shift away from him.

“Yes, of course. And I’m sure it won’t happen again,” She sighs before turning back to the blackboard, her careful cursive taking over easily where it had left off. Caspar sighs much louder than he’d intended to when she begins speaking, but he could care less about that. Today was proving to be more challenging than he had hoped, and at this point he was wondering if he should have just stayed in.

Despite his weary thoughts, he pulls out his textbook followed by his computer, pointedly looking around the room until he was able to see just what page they were on before he opened up his own notes. He quickly copied down what Professor Byleth had written, thankful it was saved online because he had already forgotten what he’d written just two lines above.

Today seemed to be a tangent day for the professor. She often got lost in details of specific stories, speaking more from memory than from what was written in the textbook- though Caspar figured that must be the mark of a good teacher. In previous classes, she’d blamed the tendency on her “years of teaching”, and- oh she was doing that now. She knew her history well, clearly having studied with her years at the University, but at time it was too much to deal with.

Caspar was drifting off despite himself, telling himself if that even if he closed his eyes, he was still listening. He could hear Byleth’s voice ranting on about some kingdom or some empire- sounded like some fantasy bullshit if you’d asked him. Yet, it was so easy to imagine.

_A beautiful monastery, covered in the blossoming greenery of spring. Byleth standing there i_ _n an unfamiliar yet cozy classroom that had been carved into the side of the sprawling and overwhelming architecture. Filled with soldiers and comrades who all either have the free-time and concern to rally together, spreading information and tactics between each other with an enthusiasm Caspar used to relate to. The war changes many things, and it seemed Caspar's ardor for a good fight was no acception. Someone's life was just too much to wager ._

_The room is a smokescreen of dust and dander, shimmering in the light that carelessly streams through the windows._ _Caspar can hear birds chirping distantly, reminding him just how much he’d rather be outside training than sitting here listening to some theoretical politics. Linhardt had the time for theories and hypotheticals and all the possibilities one might wonder, but Caspar did not._ _Speaking of, he hadn’t seen the priest in some time, having not come into the war meeting this morning. But, speak of the devil and he doth appear, in all his radiant beauty. Caspar could not help as his distracted stare wandered to where Linhardt stood outside the council room. He hadn’t the naivety to be surprised; Linhardt wasn’t interested in the war and he made it a point to show that through his lack of participation. Caspar wondered why he was even here at all, in the middle of some war- a war against their home no less. He often said it was because he’d rather be here than there- everyone must pick a side in war. It just so happened the side with Caspar was just more appealing, he would say coyly._

_Zoning out did him no good, especially when everyone in the council was aware of his daydreaming. He decided to excuse himself quietly, Byleth giving a quiet sigh before shooing him off._

_Rather than waste time daydreaming about his lover, he figured he would find him for a quick catnap before heading to the training hall. Luckily, Linhardt had not traveled far- just far enough that the chatter of the council was dulled by the chirping of crickets and birds alike. He was fast asleep underneath a tree, the speckled cat he’d been feeding earlier that morning was curled up on his chest along with him. Caspar sees he’d brought some of his books and personal notes along with him, though he doubts Lin had made an attempt at all to start anything._

_Caspar finds himself smiling without realizing, a warmth different from the sunny day spreading through him. Linhardt looked beautiful like this, his silken hair woven with the blooming grass and flowers. He was just out of the sun’s reach underneath the tree, but he didn’t need the sunlight to be radiant. Caspar had decided long ago that Lin was radiant in his own jaded, blunt ways. No, maybe it wasn't the pure-heartedness of someone like- say- Flayn, but it resonated deeply with Caspar. It filled him with a sense of courage, like there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do to protect this image, this moment right here. It made him feel as though they could win this war._

_It made him stop and instead turn around, returning to the war council feeling invigorated. He was fighting this war so LInhardt could spend every day like this, enjoying his time and hobbies at leisure. There shouldn’t be a time restraint that looms over them, that someday soon might be their last; and Caspar refused to let such a thing be. Even if he had to miss a nap with his beloved, there will surely be more. It was what he was fighting for, why he faced Byleth once more to resume his position in the meeting. She scowled-_

“Caspar, excuse me.” Professor Byleth all but shouted across the lecture hall, the acoustics scaring Caspar awake in his seat.

Dream forgotten and reality suddenly in its place, Caspar whipped his head around before his bewildered stare landed on Byleth. Oh no, she was angry. Caspar began to clear his throat in an attempt to defend himself, but Byleth cut him off with a loud “Ah!”. He felt himself flushing yet again with embarrassment, ducking his head down as if he could avoid her soul-crushing eyes.

“I expect to see you after class, von Bergliez.”

“Y-yes ma’am.”  
___________________________

“So you’re telling me that not only did the Professor make a scene when you walked in late, but she actually assigned you an essay as punishment? That seems a little harsh for her,” Ashe said warily, sipping his cola.

“Well, I mean she assigned the essay after I got caught sleeping in class,” Caspar said sheepishly. Ashe seemed to perk up at that information, but his expression said nothing as he hummed.

“At least you _went_ to class."

The two continued to walk along campus, both having ample amount of time until their next class. Or, until Caspar had class. Ashe had mentioned not having classes tonight, but he was going out with a group of friends from high school instead. Something about being dragged out on a “boys night”. Ashe had seemed somewhat reluctant at first, but it has be more fun than what he was stuck doing. Which now, seemed like going to the library to hopefully avoid any worse penalty to his grade.

They were coming to the courtyard, which was well maintained. Caspar knew the school was privately funded; it'd be a waste of all the money students spent if the campus was a dump. _Wasn't that what the professor was talking about earlier in class? Something about how the this wasn't always a big university?_ Caspar didn’t really care to know the prestigious history behind Saint Serios University; he knew that it was due to his family name that he was accepted in, surely. He’d met some real hard-working people who had truly earned their place in this school; he almost felt embarrassed in comparison.

But why did any of this matter anyway? Goddess, he was thinking too much. Caspar found himself flopping down on a bench that surrounded one of the many gardens, throwing his arms behind his head as he lazily stared up at the sky. It was bright out, but Caspar seemed to be just absent-minded enough that he wasn’t bothered. Ashe stood beside him, and distantly Caspar watched as he shuffled about with his drink. It was hardly past two and already he was feeling wiped; maybe today just wasn’t his day.

Going back to his dorm sounded nice, and now that Ashe had bought him lunch, he didn’t have the incentive nor the energy to go back to class. He could use that time to take a nap and maybe even work on that essay Professor Byleth had given him. Surely, he could convince Ashe of it, and if Ashe believed him it mustn’t be that stupid. So, taking in a breath, he closed his eyes and worked up the courage to convince his roommate of his plan. And he sat up with a gusto, expecting to see Ashe in his determined line of sight.

His eyes readjusted from the blinding sun to a vibrant green, filling the gardens as they welcomed the spring semester. And underneath the blooming tree was a deeper shade of green cascading into the grass, his eyes trailing further to porcelain skin. A little further to thick, jade eyelashes that lay flush against full cheeks.

“L-Lin…” He found himself gasping, staring wide-eyed at the stranger sitting across the courtyard. Like the angel trying to save him in his dreams, the stranger has a halo of emerald green hair, cascading around him as he lay peacefully on the ground, basking in the afternoon warmth. He wasn’t just far away- as if this square of courtyard was very large- but to Caspar, this stranger was seemingly in a different dimension. He must be some celestial projection, a hallucination if Caspar were lucky.

But there was no denying it, that was the demon that haunted his dreams. With woeful eyes and desperate attempts to be a savior he wasn’t meant to be.

“Caspar, what’s going on?” Ashe’s voice finally hits him, and he jolts to see the other peering at him with reserved concern.

“I-I think-” Caspar stopped, before silently weighing his options. He didn’t want Ashe to think he was crazy, but more-so than that, he didn’t want to overthink this like he had been all day. He never really was good at thinking, and now wasn’t the time to start. “That guy over there is the guy in my dreams.” He slowly points to the- apparently- napping stranger, his hand almost trembling though he doesn’t understand why. Adrenaline? Fear? Relief? His heart was surely racing for the same reason, yet he felt himself run pale.

Ashe stares at him in bewilderment, but strangely enough isn’t questioning any of it. He simply looks between the two, giving both Caspar and the stranger he’d dubbed _Lin_ \- when did he remember that name?- intensely inquisitive stares. Then he nods, saving whatever questions he’d gathered for later, and tosses his now empty soda into a nearby trash can. “Are you coming back to the dorms with me?” Caspar gives a nod, standing up to follow him silently. All he can think about is the visage of that stranger, and how it seemed to trigger a photogenic memory.

Funny, Caspar thinks, he knows he’s seen that before. But he remembers it differently; he can clearly see books scattered around him, and he remembers his clothes being a vibrant jade adorned with gold and white, his reading glasses, pen, and quill long forgotten.

That _never_ happened, Caspar reminds himself as his head begins to throb. He should have just stayed in this morning.

**Author's Note:**

> so i'm thinking of making this into a series, beyond just this pairing. we'll see how this plays out, and how much i enjoy writing this by the end, but i would love to hear people's opinions as well! if you'd like to see more of this, please tell me!


End file.
